Unbiased
by simplistic-by-nature
Summary: Him: born of a family of fame. Her: born of a family of disgrace. They say the evil has been eliminated... bias' lost. Yet a young and rather intelligent girl would argue differently. Can someone who has been raised in the light see the good in someone raised in the dark?
1. Chapter 1: The Platform

The platform was bustling with activity, even more so than usual, with families shouting farewells at one another and children running askew. A fog-like smoke seemed to be settling in above the mass of people, a weary reminder of the goodbyes and pressing departure.

Happily, students boarded the Hogwarts Express enthusiastically, all hopefully prepared to begin a new year. Older kids walked around with a certain familiarity and smugness as they looked on at tiny first-years who stared wide eyed at the beginning of a year away from their homes and families. Excitement hung in the air and clang to each being like a morning dew, it was a time for fresh starts and new beginnings, just what so many looked forward to after a long summer spent away from their friends and the magical castle many now called a second home.

However, despite the almost rampant enthusiasm, on small duo stood apart from the crowd, talking quietly though with a sense of urgent sadness. There, a man who looked to be in his late forties stood comforting an older girl, most like a 6th or 7th year.

Draco Malfoy had not changed much since his years at Hogwarts. He still had the same light hair, pale skin, and sharp features that he so proudly displayed as a boy. Yet there was something in his demeanor that was quite different. Long lost was the look of despair and stress, a result of his rather brutal and abusive childhood. He looked happier, more calm, except the people who knew him best could see the immense hurt he held in his eyes. A look of loss and complete grief. It was almost all Juliette Malfoy could see when she looked to her father… a constant reminder of both his and her pain.

Juliette was nearly a exact replica of her father. With the same hair color and locks that fell in loose waves down her back, same pale skin that seemed almost iridescent, and the same light grey eyes that appeared almost cold, like a winter morning. The only reminiscing features of her mother could be seen in her features, which were much more delicate than Draco's. Her nose was small and more curves, her face softer and more feminine, and her eyes wide and innocent. She was a lovely girl to anyone who laid eyes on her, perhaps a little peculiar considering the paleness of her looks, but she too was plagued with a sadness that seemed to radiate off of her. It was the kind of sadness that seemed everlasting, one that covered her aura, darkened her light in a sense.

But nevertheless, she was something. Juliette Malfoy was something.


	2. Chapter 2: Train Rides and Puzzle Pieces

Juliette:

"Goodbye, sweetheart." My dad said into my hair as he hugged me. "Write me whenever you can, and let me know if you need anything."

I sniffed in response, desperately trying to hold in the few tears that were threatening to spill over my eyes. All around me, I could hear faint voices, laughter, talking. Everyone seemed excited to return to school. Why couldn't I feel the same?

Dad, as if sensing my distress, pulled back and lifted my chin with his finger.

"Hey." He started, "Don't worry. You'll be back before you know it."

I smiled shakily, nodding my head quickly and clearing my face and replacing it with my practiced expression of calculated enthusiasm. There was no need to burden my father with the woes of my poor little life.

"I'll see you at Christmas, right?" I asked eagerly. As much as I enjoyed the academic aspect of school, I still could never wait to return home over breaks.

"Of course, I'll be here to pick you up as always, maybe we can catch a quiditch match." He smiled in return, this eyes hopeful, one of our common passions lied in the game we had both spent much of our time together playing. Soon, though, his eyes were drawn towards something over on the other end of the platform, his smile dimming slightly.

I followed his eyes before finding a large group laughing a while away from the two of us. It was the Potters and Weasleys, one of the largest and most prominent families at my school. Their numbers were so vast that it was a shock to not have at least one in any of your classes. Yet I had always secretly admired them for their large family, they were always together… laughing and joking around. It was the epitome of a perfect family.

My dad seemed to have caught the eye of Harry Potter, a now auror, who was looking at us with a curious expression that bordered on sad. He was the one who had found my mum after the attack and who had delivered the news to us, it was a gruesome scene to say the least.

I know that him and my father had had a difficult relationship when they were in school together, but because of the current, more open-minded circumstances of the wizarding community, they had settled for being acquaintances. Because of this, I watched as they offered each other a slight nod, Mr. Potter's eyes flickering to me for a moment, before they both looked away and back to their families.

The sharp whistle of the train jolted me out of my reverie. My dad gave me one final hug before pushing me slightly towards the train, helping me to load my belongings. I waved him a quiet goodbye as it began moving, smiling as I watched his figure get smaller and smaller.

Sighing, I finally turned and began looking for a compartment. Nearly all of them were full by that point but I did finally manage to find an empty one towards the back of the train. Relieved, I took a seat next to the window and watched as the urban sprawl slowly but surely turned to countryside.

Despite what everyone else assumed, there was nothing I loved more than my family. Yes, there was a history that was dark and depressing, yet my mother had always told my father that we are so much more than yesterday.

That was one of the most beautiful things about her… the way that she made everyone feel. She was like a light, a beautiful beacon that attracted anyone around her. Her smile was contagious and her laugh like bells. You could be having the absolute most horrible day of your life and one minute with her would make you feel like you were on top of the world.

She was a magnet, attracting anything good and pure. I think that's what drew my father to her… she was exactly what he needed. His life had never been easy, with the childhood he had, darkness was nothing new to him. But then he found my mom.

Whenever I ask him to tell me the story of how they met, he smiles and talks about how they were at a work function and, as soon as he saw her, he felt lighter. It didn't take long for them to get married. A love like theirs was so natural that nothing ever felt rushed.

I was born only a couple of years after their marriage. And for once, things finally seemed to be falling into place. She had wanted a large family, having grown up as a single child herself and knowing how lonely that could be. I was the first of the planned many. Though, looking back, I think it was also my first lesson that things do not always go according to plan.

My mother was everything that was good. She was everything.

And she was taken too soon.

I don't think that my father has ever smiled like he did with her. I don't think I have either.

She was his way to be better… to see things better. Without that, I feared that he would fall back into his old and cynical self. Around me, he seemed happier, but I think that I was the only thing that was keeping him from completely losing himself to grief.

I don't know what I would've done without my dad after she passed. It wasn't new knowledge that he wasn't the most liked person wherever you went. Sometimes I would hear comments or whispers that made me question everything, but I had always been told to never judge a person by their background. My dad had told me that one, saying that when he was younger he couldn't understand the value of a person's character over their monetary value.

It was strange to think of him in such a light, the ways of his childhood seemed so gloomy, so unlike the person who raised me. But I suppose war is perhaps one of the most altering events in a person's life. War. What a strange concept. It had become such a distant piece of my life, never have I been directly exposed to the violence I have both heard and read about, thankfully. My parents educated me completely on the wizarding war, the fight against Voldemort and his ultimate defeat. They wanted me to understand the value of supporting what is right and defending against that which is wrong... something my father didn't see until it was too late.

A few girls giggled as they passed my compartment, quietly whispering about a few seventh years who had apparently smiled at them. They seemed not to have noticed me, and continued down the hallway, laughing quite loudly as they went. I sighed quietly, not really knowing how to feel. So long ago, I had desperately wished for companionship, girls with whom I could laugh and talk. But it all seemed so trivial now, could I have ever been giggling about some older boys. I hope not. But it did get lonesome sometimes, watching as all my peers found their place in the puzzle whilst I was left to watch from the sidelines as they all molded together. Maybe I just wanted to be a part of something bigger.

But alas, maybe bigger isn't always better and I needed not to focus on how to find my place, but how to find my purpose.

The country continued passing by around me and I allowed myself to get lost in the soft hues of nature, watching miles tick by. It all went to fast, if you ask me.


	3. Chapter 3: Friendships and First Kisses

The dorm rooms seemed nearly identical to the 6th year ones which I had lived in last year. With the four poster beds, draped in red and gold, the same trunks, same decorations. It was familiar, kind of nice in a way.

After dinner, I unpacked quietly, half-heartedly paying attention to the discussion between my roommates. I didn't think that I was an intended participant so I lost myself in my thoughts, focusing intently on the task at hand as the other girls prattled on around me.

There were a few others in my year whom I shared a dormitory during all my years at Hogwarts. Rachel and Vivian were perhaps some of the biggest gossips I had ever heard in my life, constantly babbling on about the next piece of trivial drama within our school. Sure they were relatively nice though I usually steered clear of them whenever I could, not yet used to their incessant noise after six years.

Louise Monroe was outgoing and beautiful, always accompanied by whatever boy she was dating that week. Her hobbies included flirting and experimenting with new beautifying charms, most of which ended poorly but humorously. She was from France and quite proud of that fact, constantly going on about some event or place in her home country. I had been to France a few times and thought that it was quite charming. Usually, I would listen quietly to Louise's ramblings, hoping that one day she would simply run out of things (more specifically, boys) to talk about.

Mary Finnegan was a quiet thing, maybe my favorite one in my year. She was studious and dedicated to her work, though I noticed that she had quite some trouble with herbology as well as transfiguration, where most of her work ended up in a burnt heap. It was a habit I heard she took from her father. She had sandy brown hair that fell down to her shoulders and glasses I noticed she tended to polish when she was nervous.

And last but not least, Rose Weasley, who was close friends with Mary. She was a thing to behold, strong-minded and fearless… the epitome of a Gryfinndor. Her red hair and freckles were in line with the Weasley trait, yet when she was embarrassed or angry, her face would redden to match. She was quite brilliant, excelling in every class and often praised for her work by professors. As a prefect, she took her duties seriously and could often be found yelling at troublemakers. Specifically, James Potter and Fred Weasley, the famous duo who caused quite an uproar most days. Fred's dad owned the Weasley's Emporium and therefore they had a never-ending supply of new material to test on unsuspecting first years.

Rose never directly acknowledged me, instead seeming to overlook my presence and instead talk with the other girls in our dorm. I wished that it didn't hurt as much as it did, but her parents were Weasley's so it was expected I suppose. I remember we had been on fine terms during first year, until she discovered the "truth" about my family and retracted her friendship by way of avoidance. Now, I didn't mind so much, she could do as she pleased and I wasn't one to blame, but back then I was unused to the ways of my peers and found myself extremely hurt that I had been dropped so suddenly.

Now, these girls and I shared an interesting relationship. I got along fine with the ones who would acknowledge me, yet the connection of friendship was always missing. Mary and Rose were both people whom I'd always thought I would get along with, but there were clearly lines there which they weren't willing to cross.

I did have a few friends whom I would study or hang out with occasionally. Millie Parker, a Ravenclaw, was bright and quite bubbly, one of the first people to voluntarily talk to me at Hogwarts and, even more shocking, continue doing so. She was friends with nearly everyone, even the younger kids, and the type of person you couldn't help but like. Whenever we were in classes together, we would always try to partner up and I would occasionally watch a quidditch game with her and her group of Ravenclaw friends, all of whom weren't nearly as excited about the sport as I.

Lucas, a Slytherin, was another person whom I thought of as a friend. He was quiet, not really one to try to draw a spotlight, but my God was he a cynical thing. Always prepared with a witty and sarcastic remark, when you got to know him, his more daring side definitely showed.

Quite the ladies man, Lucas (or Luke), spent a large portion of his time either hiding away in broom closets or hiding from the latest fling which he had dumped. It was an interesting cycle and I was often surprised at how daft some girls must be to not catch on to his schemes. I often chastised him for his behavior, but every time he would respond with, "they know what they are getting into." Which, honestly, I couldn't really argue with.

Funnily enough, Luke had been my first kiss. During 5th year, we met as partners for a potions assignment. Late one night in the library, we both just decided "why not?"

It was weird, but less awkward than I'd thought it would be, we laughed about it afterwards and then continued our work, never really speaking of it again. Maybe it was a spur of the moment type of thing or maybe we just wanted to see what it would be like. The nice thing was, Luke never cared enough to analyze the situation. And neither did I. And that, in reality, was kind of the basis of our friendship. Not really caring, but knowing enough to stick together.

He did like to tease me about the lack of romance in my life, especially comparing it to the abundance of attention he got from the opposite sex. I admit, my love life was rather dismal, only amounting to a few flings here and there, none of which lasting more than a week or two. I was a firm believer in love, in reality, not as pessimistic as my reputation would lead one to believe. For me, it was simply hard to picture love and a future with someone it's clear isn't _it._ You can't find true, boundless love until you find the person who makes you capable of it.

And maybe I wasn't looking hard enough, or was looking in the wrong place, but it was dreadfully clear that I had yet to find that.

Love.

Honestly, maybe I never would.

But I got along fine.

I kind of had to.


	4. Chapter 4: Happy Birthday

The first few weeks of class passed swiftly. Eventually, everyone settled into a routine that would become their lives for the next year. Wake up. Eat. Go to classes. Eat. Study. Eat. Play. Sleep. It seemed kind of monotonous, but there was a certain charm to it that everyone welcomed easily.

Groups were formed and friendships reaffirmed as people began making plans for the times spent away from classrooms. During the first Hogsmeade trip, I found myself leaving that castle later than the masses, having enjoyed a morning of solitude in the library. Whilst I did stop to buy some chocolate frogs and licorice ropes from Honeydukes, I soon made my way to a small hill overlooking the village. Nestling myself at the trunk of a older tree, I could watch the activity of the town from afar as well as enjoy a book which I had brought with me.

As I munched away at my goods, I lost myself in the pages of another world. Only when I noticed my fellow peers beginning to trek back to the castle did I finally stand up and follow slowly, taking small bites from an apple I had snagged from the Great Hall that morning.

Fall was most certainly in the air, with crisp air that felt most refreshing. Leaves were beginning to change colors and soon, I knew that the branches would be barren, awaiting the arrival of the fresh growth of springtime.

Of all the seasons, autumn was most definitely my favorite. There was something about it that just made me feel calm. It was transitional, but something all of it's own. And every year, I watched in silent awe as the world shifted and brilliant hues of orange and red danced across the landscape. It truly was a thing to behold.

The one thing I didn't like was just one day. One measly 24 hours.

September 29th came around every year, it was inevitable. A constant reminder of my loss, my pain. September 29th.

She was born on September 29th.

She died only forty years later.

Four decades for someone who deserved four thousand.

It seemed like such a final thought. Death. And it was. Death was it.

But rarely did people look around death, look to see the destructive path is lay to bear. Sure, death is final for one person, but to everyone else… the ones who cared… it was _everlasting_.

September 29th.

 _Happy Birthday, Mom._

I was late for class that day. A majority of my morning had been spent lying awake in bed, quietly going over the photo album I kept hidden in my trunk. My mom smiled up at me from the pictures that scattered across the pages. It had been a gift from my dad, about a month after she had died. He had collected as many pictures as he could of her, eager to let me remember as much as I could. Now, it was my most cherished possession.

Today was her birthday. Because of that, it was one of the worst days of my year. The only competition being the day of her death.

Pulling my hair up into a rather sloppy ponytail, something unlike me, I rushed down the stairs in a hurry and walked through the common room swiftly, ignoring the dirty stares and the whispers about my family. Honestly, by this point, their close-minded behavior had become quite annoying. Many of their parents had witnessed and been a part of the battle against Voldemort yet they were falling prey to the same type of prejudices.

Why would I care to be friends with any of these people when their values were so obviously construed?

Because of my absentminded thoughts, I didn't realize hitting another person as I exited the common room until my bag spilled onto the floor, the contents dispersing on the stone.

"Umph." The person I hit let out in shock.

"I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention." I hurried out quietly, moving down to collect my things.

"Not a problem. Here let me help you with that." A male voice exclaimed as he too leaned down and began gathering a few excess papers.

Standing up, he handed them to me and I finally got a glimpse of his face. I had run into James Potter of all people.

My stomach twisted slightly in anticipation of the onslaught. Whilst I don't believe he'd ever actually spoken to me, I couldn't help but fear his family and the Weasley's above others. They had so much power within our school and their numbers were so vast that I had always steered clear of them.

It didn't help that this was James either, of course I would run into to him out of all of his many relatives. For some unexplainable reason, I had always had a slight crush on him. Whether it be the way he was always laughing, encouraging happiness wherever he went, or the way his hair always somehow managed to look perfect even when it was so clearly not. Or his smile and how infectious it was or maybe how he simply had never spoken a word to me, refraining from taking part in the everyday torment of the "Malfoy girl". There was just always something about him that made me calmer… happier.

I startled slightly, but he didn't seem to be upset at me. Instead, he looked at me curiously, as if waiting for me to say something. When I didn't, his eyes drifted down before he spotted something in my hand.

"Your mom?" He asked.

My throat constricted as I saw the picture of her looking happily at the camera, the one I kept in my bag at all times. It was my favorite of her. One hand waved towards my dad, who had been taking the picture, whilst I was cradled carefully in the other.

"Yeah." I responded quietly, my voice slightly wavering.

"She's beautiful."

"Ya she was…" I said softly. "Today's her birthday. She would've been forty-four."

I looked up quickly, shocked that I had spoken. Usually I wasn't in such a sharing mood but I suppose that my mind was elsewhere.

It scared me, the look he wore, the softening of his eyes. And I soon realized my mistake. Turning quickly, I muttered something about being late for class and hurried away from him, eager to forget the whole exchange.

Because I had given him an edge.

James Potter knew my weakness.

But, as I recalled the strange look in his eyes as he observed me… not one of loathing or cynicism but rather interest and sympathy… I realized that I might have more than one weakness. And that he might just be one of them.

I dwelled on this thought for nearly the whole day, barely paying attention to my classes or conversing with anyone. Both saddened by my mother's birthday and intrigued by James, I didn't spare much thought to anyone else.

Until later that afternoon, when I was finally drawn from my musings by a boy with whom cruelty was an old friend.

Markus Crowe.

He was a broad fellow, with dark hair and a sinister smile. Usually, he was well-liked by most of our peers, thought there were a select few who knew just how outrageously mean he could become. I never quite understood why he targeted me so, though I had heard rumors that death eaters killed quite a few of his family members long ago, during the war. He hadn't been alive then, but his older siblings had, and I suspect they told him all about my father, the crimes he had committed.

There were a few other students with death-eater parents. Not any in my year, though Markus cornered them just the same. I think that he gave the younger students an easier time, thankfully, that was all they needed. Me, however, there was something about me that just really didn't set with Markus. Perhaps there was a deeper history there, one where my family name was more prevalent, but one I didn't not know of. And whilst I thought it unfair that he target me for a reason I was not aware of, I recognized the need for an emotional outlet. He was a bully and, like most bullies, there was an underlying need for attention and the need to improve ones emotional standing by tarnishing another's. Quite a complicated thing but I had read a psychology book about it several years ago.

When Markus did corner me today, in a larger corridor after lunch, I resorted to my carefully crafted mask, indifference. He could say what he liked, but never would I give him the response he craved.

The taunts were usual: my father being a death eater… me being a loner. It was quite monotonous honestly, he never said anything more.

But then, something flipped. He kept going.

"I can't understand why anyone would ever want to be a part of your family. Bloody hell, what was your mum even thinking… marrying filth like your father?"

I started slightly, coiling in shock from his words. They sounded like poison but were sharp like a dagger. Looking around, I noticed a group of people gathering around, all looking on at the spectacle with mild interest.

That's what got to me the most whenever this happened… people would watch. They preached the brave qualities of their parents and taunted my own, yet here they stood, cowardly watching as my life was ridiculed to no end.

It was despicable.

"What? looking for your mum? Last I heard she was six feet under." Make taunted, looking at all of his friends and garnering support.

"Who knows… maybe your dad did it. He's a killer after all, isn't he? Tell me, are you like daddy… got a tattoo on your arm too?" Markus smirked nastily at me as his friends and the crowd around us began to snicker.

"Maybe… maybe your mom killed herself. You never know… I would if I had you as a kid."

And finally, for once in my life, I felt defeated.

Never had they spoke about my mom before. For some reason, I had thought there was some sort of code. Anyone who had known my parents… had known my mom… would never say anything so vile. I didn't know anyone could say something like that ever, despite not knowing her.

Losing a parent is the absolute worst thing that could happen to someone. I wouldn't wish is upon even my worst enemy, and having something so awful _used_ against me made me feel about as terrible as the day it happened.

My throat contracted and I could feel the blood drain from my face as I stood looking at this boy who didn't know what true pain was like. There weren't words to describe what I felt in that moment.

I wanted my mom.

I took in a sharp breath, feeling as though I had been slapped a thousand times, and stepped backwards, retracting from the harsh blow of his words.

It was then when I finally realized that maybe people were just plain cruel… deep down to their core. For some reason, I had always believed in humanity, believed that there was at least some speck of love within everyone. But I had been wrong.

And I was so alone. But if being alone meant that I wasn't surrounded by such evil, then it seemed like the best option.

So I turned finally, my quiet footsteps bringing me farther and farther away from their torment. I hated how much it hurt. I hated how much I couldn't change. And, above all else, I hated how much I cared.


	5. Chapter 5: Letters Sent in Smoke

**James:**

I walked into the common room with Fred, talking about his dad's newest creation when I saw Rose off in a corner, looking out the window deep in thought and with a frown on her face.

I nudged Fred's arm, signaling my departure and made my way over to her. Rose had always been more thoughtful than the rest of my family, but this time looked different.

"Hey, Rose. What's up?" I questioned as I sat across from her, drawing her eyes away from outside. It was shocking to see to look of helplessness they held.

"Oh, James it was awful." She said. "What they said was awful."

"What? what happened?" I asked, suddenly extremely concerned.

"He said her dad killed her mum. James. He made fun of her mum dying. How could someone do that?" She said, sniffling.

"What? Who said what to who?" I asked, now utterly confused.

"Markus. He-he cornered Juliette and he started making fun of her, like usual. But this time was different. He wanted her to say something, so he started talking about her mum and James, god, it was just terrible. The things he said…"

My breath contracted in my throat as Rose burst into sobs, her body convulsing with guilt and sadness. Rose had never really had much to say on Juliette, she had mostly ignored her and looked on whenever people spoke of her, something which went against her usually caring nature. But with Malfoy, things had always been different. There were ties that were just too deep for Rose to acknowledge I suppose.

A swift sense of shock and guilt ran over me as Rose recounted what had happened in the corridor that afternoon. It was surprising that I hadn't heard about it sooner, as it seemed as though there was quite a crowd. I was also surprised by the sudden flash of anger that boiled within me. Like Rose, I had mostly gone along with the hatred for Malfoy over the years, never thinking of her as anything more than a last name.

But talking to her just that one time had finally made her seem like so much more than a surname. It conflicted me, knowing that she was nothing like I had thought, but that I still didn't know her well enough to assume that. I wanted desperately to hate her, and I was scared that maybe I couldn't anymore.

"I swear I thought she was going to faint," Rose continued, "she looked bad, like she had been hit. And he didn't stop, he didn't care. And I just stood there, James. What kind of person am I to just stand there when he was saying all that?"

I froze as she sobbed harder. Crying wasn't something I particularly knew how to deal with. And seeing my cousin crying so much over someone I thought she despised was shocking to say the least.

"All this time. I've hated her, just like everyone else. I thought she was just another Malfoy. But she's human. And she's so alone. And people are so cruel to her. You know, I've never talked to her, I just assumed she was horrible. I did. And I really don't think she is. She never talks back, she works hard, she never engages in fights, I've never seen her hurt a fly. And-and she always helps people when they need it. But no one cares, they just hate her, for no reason at all."

"We've all been absolutely terrible. Can't you see? Oh god, what would our parents think? We've been just the opposite of everything they were. Oh, James, we really are cruel."

I didn't really respond, though Rose's words rolled around my head like waves. They tasted like vinegar in my mind… pounded like a drum in my ears.

 _We really are cruel._

Funny how one thing you so clearly disregarded for your whole life, something you never thought twice of, could so so suddenly become the only thing. It was all, a final truth. Undeniable.

Sure, Rose and I had never really taken part in hurting Malfoy, but our indifference was just as much of a crime. We failed to see the impact of our disregard… just how harsh it was.

I thought of my brief encounter with Juliette today, recalling how kind she was despite the unfortunate circumstances she was placed in… grouped in more like it. But then I realized something, a thought which saddened me even more.

"It was her mom's birthday today." I whispered, sadness rushing through me as I remembered the picture I saw this morning.

"What?" Rose asked, confused.  
"I ran into her this morning and she let it slip. It was her mom's birthday." I said, suddenly feeling like finding her and telling her that I was so sorry for Markus… for everyone.

"Oh. God. James." Rose stuttered out, a new bout of tears coming to her eyes and I suddenly regretted telling Rose at all. She was sad enough as it was.

"Hey, it's okay." I said urgently, trying desperately to calm my cousin. "There is still time for us to right some of our wrongs. We can be what she really needs… offer her our friendship… a chance for her to be understood beyond her name."

Rose looked up at me slightly, sniffling but also nodding slightly. It was clear that this whole issue was something that was seriously affecting her and, in the usual Rose way, it would be something she faced head on. Backing away from a problem was something unknown to her.

Rose left later that evening, her eyes finally dry and a look of determination set in her eyes. I was then left to ponder. My mind kept drifting back to Juliette.

She was good at keeping in the shadows, I must admit. Had it not been for the unwanted attention she was given, I doubt anyone would even know of her existence. Hardly ever found without a book in her hands, I knew that she was very smart. It was one of the reasons, among many, why people taunted her. With knowledge that rivaled someone like Rose, it was well known how loved she was by the professors.

But, despite that, she never spoke in class, sitting quietly and diligently taking notes. The few times I've noticed her she either had her head down and was scribbling furiously or looking off, her grey eyes seeming to be in another place, though hidden by her studious looking glasses.

That was another thing about her that was captivating. Her eyes. They went well with her light features. With extremely blond hair, pale skin, and light eyes, it was surprising how bright she seemed. Yet it was also cold. The way she seemed to remove herself from the present, from everyone around her.

She walked with grace, smoothly gliding from place to place with a certain elegance. Even throughout her torment did she maintain a regal posture and sense of stability. It reminded me of air. She seemed light and fluid, above the petty drama that surrounded her.

I realized that she must have an immense sense of control and patience. Regardless of her relationship with her parents, should anyone insult my family I would have snapped quickly. Yet she always seemed to adopt a sense of indifference whenever she was cornered or yelled at. It was rather remarkable.

Honestly, the first time I had really spoken to her was today. After seven years there wasn't really a conversation I had ever held with her. Admittedly, in the beginning, I had thrown a few jokes at her expense though, after a few years I had grown tired of her lack of response and decided that there were far better ways to spend my time.

However, after today, I couldn't help but regret my previous indifference. It so blatantly clear how alone she was in a world where solitude was depressing. To know that I had partaken in jokes directed at her made my stomach turn, as if I was going to be sick. She didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve any of it.

The quick opening of the dormitory door shocked me, causing me to jump slightly in my seat. It was well past curfew and I hadn't expected anyone to be out at this hour besides me.

Except for maybe Juliette.

And it was.

I don't think that she saw me as she walked through the door as I was sitting far off in the corner. My stomach twisted as I took in her appearance. Rose was right, she did look terrible. Usually, she had a sense of indifference about her. Maybe because it was simply her personality. But I had seen the way her eyes lit up as she talked about her mother. Because of that, I somehow thought that maybe there was something more to her. It was her life and her surroundings that made her so harsh.

She was sniffling slightly, her face pale and tired. Her eyes were dim, but I could make out the pain within them due to the light of the fire. This morning, there had been a little spark in them as she looked at the picture of her mom. It almost hurt to see that gone, now.

I could tell she loved her mom. So much. The way she spoke of her, how she carried a picture with her, how broken she sounded when she talked about her not being around.

The fact that someone had used that love against her was evil and I was suddenly struck with an immense urge to go and beat Markus to a pulp. No matter how much I may or may not dislike her, no one deserved that.

Having a family who had lost so much gave me a glimpse of just how painful it was. To this day, my father becomes quite depressed when talking about his parents and I see the way that Uncle George looks whenever someone brings up Fred… it's as though he too had died. But I knew that, if anyone were ever to bring that up in a negative way, my family would move mountains to see them punished. That was the nice thing about having a big family, you always had someone to look out for you… to love you.

It was sad to think that Juliette didn't have that. Rose was right… she was truly alone, left to deal with all of this for so long all by herself. It's a surprise she hadn't completely cracked yet. I didn't doubt that anyone else would.

In her hand was a small piece of parchment, and she clutched it rather tightly. She had paused on her path to the girls dormitories to look at the paper intently. For a moment, I could've sworn that a tear dripped from her eye and trailed silently down her face, but it was gone before I could affirm that theory. As if shaking herself out of a daze, she shook her head and instead headed over to the fire which had now died down a bit and, before giving it a second glance, threw the paper in.

Quietly, from my corner, I muttered a slight spell as she turned and walking briskly up the stairs and to bed. Once I was sure she had left, I hurried up and over to the flames, summoning the parchment which I had quietly prevented from burning in the hearth.

 _Dear Mom,_

 _Happy birthday! I hope they have strawberry shortcake wherever you are… it wouldn't be a birthday without your favorite desert._

 _I wish we could be together to celebrate, but maybe you are here anyways. I thought I saw you in the stars tonight… they always were your favorite thing. There even was a shooting star. I know it's stupid, but I pretended it was you waving at me. Wow, I sound quite out of it don't I? If you were here, you would laugh and tell me that it's okay to sound crazy because there is nothing more beautiful than being crazy in a world that's normal._

 _Dad misses you. I can tell. Sometimes I see him. He sits in that old chair and looks at that family picture we took a while ago, the one when I blew up the camera because my stuffed animal couldn't be in the picture. You were happy because it was quite funny to see the photographer struggle and dad was happy because you were._

 _Sometimes, he gets a far off look in his eyes and I know that he is there with you. I know because the same thing happens to me too. It's nice, to pretend that everything is the same sometimes. It makes the world seem so much better, but it makes the fall so much harder. I really do try to move past what happened, but it's as though my heart has an argument with my head every time I try. I think that I'm afraid that if I do, I might distance myself from my memories of you._

 _I wish that you were here more than ever. You always knew how to make things brighter, and I feel so dark. I wish I didn't. I remember what you said about people who were mean, that they all were fighting their own battles. And I've believed that for so long, tried to understand that maybe they just needed an outlet. But I can't help but feel lost. I don't know what to believe anymore._

 _I ran into someone today. And for the first time, I didn't feel sad. I don't know why, maybe because he didn't brush me off or ignore me. He said you were beautiful, who wouldn't, and he didn't look at me like I was the plague. It was nice, to finally be more than a name._

 _Plus,you wouldn't believe who it was to begin with. James Potter, as in Harry Potter's son. I always thought as though the Potters and Weasleys would be the most hateful. And I do think that they dislike me, yet they are not the most cruel._

 _I remember the stories that dad told me about them. How they went to school together and how they saved his life. How he wishes things had been different but that the world was too blinded by hate… he was too blinded, so he couldn't see it._

 _Anyways, James and I only talked briefly, but it was uplifting to feel like I could finally talk to someone about something that mattered. It can get rather monotonous to be by myself all of the time. He seems nice, and is about as crazy obsessed with quid ditch as dad. I think that, should the circumstances have been different, we may have even become friends over the years. Dad would most certainly approve of him._

 _I got a new racing broom before I left for school this year. I think dad was trying to encourage me to try out for the team but I didn't have the heart to tell him that I wouldn't exactly be welcome. Sometimes I'll take it out for a fly, usually going over the lake and parts of the forest, where no one will see me. It makes me feel so free and alive, but it also makes me miss quid ditch a lot more. I remember how fun it was to play with you and dad in our backyard, even if you didn't love it as much as he did. Occasionally, I regret not trying out for the team when I had a chance, but I suppose I am too cowardly to face the rejection and criticism I know would be there. Maybe after I graduate, I could find a club team wherever I move and play for them._

 _They are talking to us a lot more about our futures, asking about careers and what not. Headmaster McGonigal thinks that I should go into something like healing, wizarding law, or to becoming an auror. Honestly, I think that I would be happy with any of those, but I'll have to make my mind up soon. It's quite scary, not knowing, but I'm ready to get out of here._

 _Did you ever feel trapped, like everyone put you in a box that you didn't ask to be in? Lately I've been feeling so alone. Maybe because everyone is going to have people with them after graduation… friends and family to help them navigate through life. Of course I have dad, but I know that I can't rely on him forever, he needs to begin living again… for himself and not just for me._

 _I know that you always had wanted a big family and maybe it's true, that I'm slightly envious of people like the Potters and Weasleys, like Dad was. They are always laughing and surrounded by loved ones. I see how they never have to be alone and I can't help but think that that doesn't sound so bad. But then I also see how mean people can be and it gets me to thinking that maybe being alone is the better option. I think that I just wish there was someone. But alas, you always taught me to be happy with what I have and I will do that… you always were the smartest one._

 _Thank you. Even though you are gone, you still help me in ways I don't understand. It just goes to show that you were the most perfect mom I could've asked for… you still are. And I promise that I won't let what they say get to me. I know who you were and I know how much you and dad loved each other. They don't, but that's their loss._

 _I'll see you again one day mom, but for now, I'll keep looking towards the sky like you told me to. It does help to think that you're somewhere, watching over me and dad. I wish there was some way I could give you a birthday present, but I suppose this is all I can offer. Sorry._

 _I miss you. And I love you._

 _Happy birthday._

 _Love, Jules_

I stared at the letter after I had read it, trying to process all of the emotions which seemed to pour from it, making my heart ache. All this time I had assumed that she was just a cruel as the stories about her family, but this letter showed nothing but a lost, kind, pure young girl who felt so sad and alone… someone who just wanted their mum back.

Then, I knew that she would no longer be someone I could stay away from. I had finally seen her… caught a glimpse of the person she had been hiding. She was right, we could've become friends. But whose stopping us now?

Like Rose, I went to bed with a new resolve. Disappointed in myself for being so blind for so long, I was finally ready to move past what was holding me back before. I couldn't ignore Juliette Malfoy anymore. What's more? I didn't want to.


	6. Chapter 6: Grey Eyes in the Night

She didn't come to class the next day, a first for her. People kept talking about the incident though, rumors circles the halls like wildfire with stories ranging from somewhat accurate to vastly elaborated.

That day, as teachers announced the role call for the class, my eyes drifted over to where she usually sat, the empty chair towards the side of the class seemed to weigh the room down. Not everyone cared as much as Rose and I did, it appeared, brushing off the incident as nothing more than a brief altercation. Then, after news of the two heads getting caught out past curfew swept through the school and it was all forgotten. Though not to me.

Markus still sauntered around the school with his followers, his smirk an ever-present feature on his rather unpleasant face. The first time I spotted him, I had the urge to punch him right in the face, though I restrained myself. It wasn't worth getting in trouble and I figured that Malfoy wasn't the type of girl to approve of violence.

Instead, I quietly hexed him from across the great hall, watching in pleasure as boils sprung up all over his face. It was time for his appearance to reflect his personality. Luckily, I was quite discreet about it, the only person who suspected me of anything was Rose, who had caught a glimpse of me tucking my wand away. Though instead of turning me in, she gave me a small smile and nod of approval. It was as though the only person who was on my level in regards to the whole situation was Rose. She had been rather quiet and edgy, always looking hopefully towards the door before class. I didn't know what her plan was, though I suspected that it was similar to my own.`

It was as though I had become hyperaware of anything that had to do with Malfoy, whenever someone spoke of her or about her, my attention automatically snapped to them. More information was necessary to me, if I were to begin to understand the puzzle that was Isabelle Malfoy, I needed to start with at least knowing her.

Funnily enough, we had nearly class together. Why I had never noticed before was beyond me, though I took in every detail after this became clear. She usually sat towards the side of the classroom, where she wouldn't be stuck in the back with those who never paid attention or in the front with those who always paid too much attention. The chair beside her was usually either unoccupied or taken by some unassuming and quiet person who probably wouldn't care much who they sat next to to begin with.

More than once was I tempted to use my map to find her, especially when she didn't show up for class or any of the meals. In all honesty, I wanted to check to make sure she was still in the castle after the rumor that she was leaving for Bulgaria swept through the school.

I had debated checking on her but didn't feel like explaining my behavior or how I'd even found her. It was most likely that she just wanted solitude for a while, who wouldn't?

Instead, I waited. The day seemed to drag on and I found it difficult to pay attention to the chaos around me. Several teachers had called me out in class for my lack of listening and even Fred had questioned my strange behavior after having noticed my disregard for an elaborate prank he was planning on the groundskeeper involving a fake earthquake.

That night, I went to bed rather early, withdrawing from my group of friends who was raucously playing a game of exploding snap. Usually one to partake, I found it peaceful to be alone with my thoughts for an hour or two. And whilst I did eventually drift off to sleep, my last thoughts were of the girl who I had suddenly become so focused on and, as I stared out a window into the dark expanse of night, I could of sworn I saw I set of grey eyes looking back at me… twinkling with all the secrets they held.


	7. Chapter 7: An Unexpected Acquaintance

**Juliette:**

I didn't go to classes the next day. Instead, I hid up in the North tower, siting on a window ledge and looking out at the forest and lake. I hated that I was being a coward, but I also loved the solitude.

At night, I watched the stars dance across the darkness, pretending that the light was really my mom again… that she was talking to me and laughing, her eyes twinkling like they did. I didn't feel so bad then.

I walked back to the common late that night, waiting until everyone had left before entering and silently slipping into bed, careful not to get caught. The next day, I woke up before everyone else did, grabbing food from the kitchens before rushing to my hideout for a few quiet moments before classes.

Watching the sunrise had always been something I had enjoyed… especially at Hogwarts. To watch the colors over the lake was something so indescribably calming and a perfect way to start a hectic day.

Due to my lack of a social life or extracurriculars, I loaded my schedule with courses every year. I liked to explore my options and therefore had taken nearly every class that the school offered, always willing to learn. As someone whose future was quite unplanned, I had hoped that something would strike my fancy. I suppose that I would be alright doing anything, though there were a few careers I found more appealing than others. Perhaps I would simply abandon the whole planning setup that teachers were hammering into our brains. Be spontaneous, though I didn't know if I was courageous enough for that.

My thoughts drifted for a while as I tried to picture my future, though the image was blurry and unresolved. But, about a half an hour later, when the sun was finally higher in the air, I stood, dusted off myself, and meandered back up towards the castle for the day.

Later, after everyone had finished breakfast, my experience walking into Transfiguration was rather odd. The room quieted down immensely as I entered and I took my seat with my head down. I didn't want to look at anyone.

Instead, I focused on pulling out the materials I would need for class, including parchment and my quill. Quietly, I began to scribble out some sketches across the pages to pass the time until a shadow fell across my desk, causing me to look up.

It was Rose Weasley, a girl in my year whom had maintained her distance from me over the past time. She seemed nice, from what I could tell, and wicked smart, always the first to shout out an answer in class. From what I've heard she was very much like her mother, except of course for her flaming red hair, a Weasley trademark.

Immediately, she shocked me by setting down her bag down at my desk and taking the seat which usually was unoccupied. She too began grabbing her materials, unaware of the large amount of attention she was receiving from the class, who was staring, open-mouthed at her actions.

Soon enough, she paused, turning to look at me with questioning eyes.

"You don't mind do you?"

I almost smiled at her bluntness, but remained too shocked to speak. Instead I simply shook my head and turned my head back down to my doodles.

We remained silent for the rest of the class, though I wouldn't talk anyways. Taking notes meticulously, we both paused only to watch examples being performed. Occasionally, I would glance at her from the corner of my eye, curious as to why she had suddenly decided to pair herself with me.

I didn't want to overanalyze the situation but I couldn't help but think that I would like Rose. She was fearless and strong-minded, independent enough to form relationships outside of her own family and to ignore comments made about her intellect.

After class, I packed up my belongings hastily before standing and making for the door. The sound of my name ringing out after me halted my departure.

It was Rose, who was walking towards me with a fierce and determined look in her eye that put me slightly on edge. However, once she reached me, the look softened and she spoke quietly.

"I'm very sorry, you know." She whispered, "For what Markus said, it was completely uncalled for and cruel, you didn't deserve that. I'm sure your mother was a wonderful person and I'm deeply sorry for your loss."

Her words sounded slightly rehearsed, as though she had practiced them in her mind, but her eyes were truthful and kind. I felt a small amount of happiness pool in my mind as I reflected on what she just said. Though I didn't like thinking about Markus's words, it was nice to hear that, if not shocking coming from someone who had basically ignored my existence for the last several years.

"Thank you, that's nice of you to say." I finally responded.

A tiny lapse in discussion ensued for a moment though she soon spoke up once more.

"Anyways, I was wondering if you would like to come to the library with me. You're absolutely brilliant at potions and this essay is killing me." She smiled brightly, a little unsure but that was understandable.

This was her olive branch. She had overcame her perception of my name and had reached out to know me as a person. I always thought that I would like her.

"I'd love to." I smiled in response, enthusiastic.

We spent the next hour cooped up in a small table in the library as I tried my best to explain our potions assignment. It appeared as though I helped, for Rose soon began to understand the material more completely and began drafting an excellent essay. Meanwhile, because I had already finished mine, I found a book on advanced magical theory from the 1700s and began reading, though my thoughts often drifted back to the girl sitting across from me.

Rose was very likable. She was bright and sociable, babbling happily about classes and how tedious the workload was getting. Though I knew she was extremely smart, she never bragged like people thought she did. If she knew the answer to a question, she wouldn't hesitate to share, but she was just as certain that there was so much she didn't know. It was refreshing to talk with her, easy even, the conversation flowed unexpectedly.

When it was finally time for lunch, I feared that she would leave, afraid to be seen in a public setting with me. But she shocked me once more by walking with me all the way to the great hall and insisting that I sit with her to continue our discussion on how utterly boring Professor Binns was. Confused glances and whispers followed our movements the whole way, though Rose effortlessly ignored them, as did I.

I had never really thought about the gossip that surrounded her before. She, like me, was often victim to the cruelty of those around her. Often time she was mocked for her intelligence and strong-minded behavior. And though her family was never far behind, offering punishment to anyone who had hurt her, it must still hurt. I could detect the mask of indifference that she wore whenever a word was spoken about her. It was was the same look I wore of my own face.

A few of Rose's friends joined the table after a while, and though they failed to hide their looks of shock and curiosity, casting questioning glances towards Rose, who artfully avoided their obvious stares. Instead, she managed to meld us all into conversation together. Though slightly uncomfortable and awkward at first, I did manage to offer input a few times, Rose smiling proudly every time, supporting me silently. Eventually, towards the end of our lunch break, I actually felt minutely relaxed. I felt… I don't know… like I was a part of something.

It was a small gesture by Rose, one that to anyone else might seen to be inconsequential. But I felt so undoubtedly grateful for her. She reached out to me when I needed someone most. When leaving for my next class, which unfortunately I didn't share with her, I smiled genuinely at her and thanked her. We both know what I was really referencing. Smiling in return, she said she would see me later and we separated.

And I walked down a silent corridor, suddenly feeling a lot less alone.

It was nice.


End file.
